


The Sting

by loosecannon



Series: Something and Nothing [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: '70s fashion, Angst, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, To Be Continued
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 03:00:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16778269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosecannon/pseuds/loosecannon
Summary: Walburga Niobe Black believed in teaching her children to fight.





	The Sting

Walburga Niobe Black believed in teaching her children to fight. She had trained them since they could hold a wand, Dumbledore and his ministry be damned.

Now, as they stood side-by-side, handsome as anything, she puffed with pride. “Look at you,” she said. She ruffled Sirius’s hair and stroked Reggie’s cheek. “My brave boys.”

Sirius half-heartedly batted her hand away. He’d just turned ten and fancied himself grown. Niobe laughed. “Alright, King Wizard,” she said. “Show me your stance.”

He stood, feet apart, wand held properly at shoulder height. Regulus did the same, adjusting his limbs to match his brother’s. “Good,” said Niobe. “Now, don’t break eye contact. Predict my attacks before they happen.”

She shot a sting—a mildly painful hex of her own invention—at Reg. He blocked it. She stung Sirius without changing position, and he reflected the hurt back at her. Smart boy. They kept dueling, Niobe and her boys throwing bullets of red light. Reg put up an opaque shield. Sirius fought back, grinning as he dodged and stung. 

And then he bent over, wincing. Niobe must have hit him between the ribs. She clapped briskly. “Up, up,” she said. “No whining nancies in my sitting room.”

“Well, Dad isn’t here,” he said. 

Niobe stopped in disbelief. Regulus giggled. And then Sirius stung at her, grinning mirthlessly. She blocked it, of course, but barely. 

He certainly was something else, that boy of hers. Something else entirely. 

\------------------

Later, Reg bounced onto Sirius’s bed. “Hi,” he said, untangling one foot from his robe. 

“Have a nightmare?” Sirius asked. 

“No.” Reg was silent for a time. And then he spoke. “Mum likes you better, doesn’t she?”

Sirius slid closer. “No way,” he said.

“Yes way.” Reg stuck out his lower lip. “If I said something like that about dad, she’d sting me.”

“Hey,” said Sirius, poking his brother in the belly. “She just probably felt bad about stinging me before.”

Kreature materialized, carrying warm milk and a cinnamon biscuit. He handed the mug to Reg. 

“How do you do that?” Said Regulus.

“We have our own magic, young master. We simply use it sparingly. Better to be underestimated than overestimated, hmm?” Reg nodded. The house-elf nodded back and then disappeared. 

“Huh,” Sirius said. “Weird guy.”

“Hey, he can probably hear you.”

“Mate, I think Kreature’s made his peace with being weird”

_________________________

When Sirius returned home after his sixth year, he did so in ridiculously tight bell-bottom jeans. His hair had grown to his shoulders, now, and he strutted around, playing an imaginary guitar in front of a laughing Regulus. Reg clapped as he kicked one foot into the air and loudly vocalized: “boww bowww.” 

Niobe generally tolerated Sirius’s antics. His Gryffindor flags, his muggle music, his presumably buggering some mudblood boy. But she had to draw a line somewhere. And dancing in obscene trousers in front of his little brother crossed it. 

“Regulus,” she said, “Why do we wear robes?” 

“So our enemies can’t see our stance, predict our movements, and to protect the femoral artery,” he recited. 

Niobe stung sirius directly on the femoral artery. “Go upstairs,” she said, “and don’t come down without a robe.” Some discrete buggery was fine by her, but she didn’t want her son running off to Copenhagen and muggle sex-clubs. 

Add then Sirius appeared appeared on the top of the stairs in a robe. He looked Niobe in the eye, grabbed the ends of his robe, and performed an elaborate curtsey. Reg giggled, and he did it again. Niobe had to stop this from escalating any further. 

She shot a small flame at the end of his robe, and he dropped it and whipped out his wand. Good. He can put out the fire quickly, and he has many robes in need of wearing.

And then he stepped back and sent a flame at Niobe. The fire on his own robe was growing. He sent flame after flame at her, fighting like a man possessed. Niobe blocked and reflected. The fire grew, setting alight his trousers. Niobe assumed a low defensive position. The fire touched his skin, licking up his legs and left arm. He grinned, face distorted with flame, and Niobe lost eye lost eye contact. She stumbled. And a piece of flame took her hair and her robe before she shouted “ENOUGH!” And sprayed water onto him and then her smoldering self. 

Sirius looked stunned, eyes moving rapidly. He seemed to have only now noticed that he had set his mother on fire. Regulus had backed into a corner, eyes closed, and opened them in the sudden wet silence. “I’m going,” Sirius said. He grabbed his broomstick and one of his bags and left. Niobe shouted after him, but he pretended not to hear her. He never came back.


End file.
